


We Don't See Eye to Eye

by HunnyBunny (WritingAnAlternateUniverse)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bodyguard/Assassin RK900, CEO Connor, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, I generally call RK900 Cyrus or Nines so I apologize in advance, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Hank, Psychiatrist Gavin Reed, There will be violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-01-24 07:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingAnAlternateUniverse/pseuds/HunnyBunny
Summary: When intelligence comes that a big CEO and a wealthy, well-known psychiatrist are being held captive, Hank can't help but tell Nines to 'load up.'  If he can work a deal with these two after saving them, he could gain more power in this city than he already had.  It would be easy to do; just save them, offer a deal such as 24/7 protection from any harm, and send them on their way.  Or so he thought.





	1. The Capture

**Author's Note:**

> The characters are very out of character in comparison to their videogame counterparts. Please keep in mind this is an Alternate Universe and a self-ingulgent story. Enjoy!

There is a point in your career that you really think nothing can hurt you and no one can touch you. Unfortunately, that is definitely not the case, especially for Connor Lockheart. As a successful business owner of a dog accessories company, he was undeniably wealthy and fairly well-known, enough for his face to gather attention when he was out in public. Being out in public, though, was always dangerous, and Connor was well aware of that except for the fact that he was very unprepared for the blow to the back of his head. He was not aware that criminals also struck in the daytime. Those were his last thoughts as he slipped into unconsciousness.  
When Connor woke up again, he couldn't see his surroundings. It just smelled horrible. He tries to call out for help, but only managed a muffled cry, and he realized, a little late, that he was gagged. But his soft sound was granted a response. Equally as muffled of a grunt, someone off to Connor's left made a sound. Connor was both terrified and relieved that he was not alone in being caught. He listened for their captors, hearing faint yelling from somewhere else in the building...

Hank looks up from his book as his most trusted bodyguard hands him a slip of paper. He had learned not to startle so easily, especially with Nines around. The taller man, despite his height and weight, could walk as silently as a cat. Hank swore that Nines could have been a cat in his past life, especially with the precision of his landings and fearless leaps into dangerous situations. Hank took the note and read it over.  
"A dog accessory CEO?" Hank grunts, glancing at Nines.  
"Connor Lockheart. I assume dog toys and the like, sir," came Nines' grumbling monotony.  
"And a psychiatrist?"  
"Gavin Reed. Well-known in the state. Number 9 in the country. Number 12 in the world."  
Hank gives Nines an acknowledging grunt. These guys had huge salaries and could likely buy anything from anyone with enough green persuasion. And the fact that they were likely being held not too far away was only a bonus. He put his book down on his side table and got up slowly.  
"Nines, I would like you to load up. As usual, pick your own weapons and do what you do best, kid."  
"Yes, sir," came the short response. And like he was never there, Nines had disappeared.

Gavin was quietly grunting, a quiet consistent sound to let the other captured victim know he was still there. Especially since their captors' voices were getting closer. He could hear the metal instruments clinking as their captors move down the stairs. He stopped making noise, so as to not alert them that he was trying to communicate with the other captive. He listens closely as the captors get down from the stairs.  
"I still believe we should just kill them and loot their shit," one captor grumbles, his suggestion apparently not being a popular one.  
"Selling them off to be trafficked would be better. It would add on more cash to the deal," another said firmly.  
"Yeah, but they're so sexy. Couldn't we have a go at them before we sell them?" A third pitches in.  
Gavin almost physically recoils. It smelled horrible in here, and their captors made the room smell worse. And his heart thudded in his throat at the thought. He'd have to live with all of that trauma. He was a psychiatrist, sure, he dealt with mental trauma every day, but this was different, having to deal with his own trauma. He must have made a sound because he suddenly felt the chill of sharp steel under his chin.  
"Oh, you like that idea?" The third one croons. His voice was even colder than the knife under Gavin's chin.

Nines had cleared the first floor of the building with ease, stepping over dead bodies and sliding around growing pools of crimson blood. His steely blue eyes stare ahead at the staircase leading downwards into the darkness with only the faintest light peering out from the very bottom. An easy mistake to make, but a foolish one at that. He grabs the railing and walks down the stairs calmly, putting the silenced sniper up in a ready position, peering through the scope. Two in blindfolds, the assumed captives. Three with knives and shitty pistols, more of the captors. He carefully sits on the stairs and angles the shot.  
Ba-bump...  
THUD!  
A yell.  
Ba-bump...  
WHUMP!  
A cry of 'where?'  
Ba-bump...  
THUNK!  
All three men hit the ground in a matter of three heartbeats. He hoped and assumed no bullet had made its way to a captive, but by the muffled screaming in confusion, both captives lived. He listens around before getting up and walking down the stairs quickly. He puts the rifle in its place on his back before grabbing a knife hilted at his thigh and cutting the restraints before lifting the blindfolds. He steps back, glancing from Gavin, to Connor, then back to Gavin. Dammit, a bullet had grazed across Gavin's nose...  
"The Boss will see you now."

Connor sat in the leather chair, bouncing his leg anxiously. That dangerous man with all the weapons stood nearby and it made matters none the better. The bear-skin rug stared at him. Connor nearly screamed when the fire popped in the nearby fireplace. He felt a gentle hand on his leg. Gavin, with a thick bandage on his nose, stood near him and offered a slight smile. He was not a huge fan of Connor, but with the fact that both of them could have died together today, he was fine for the time being. Both of them look up as the door opens. A huge Saint Bernard lumbers in, followed by an equally as large man. Connor sank into his seat. Was it an instance of 'out of the frying pan and into the fire?' Because it sure felt like it. The large man's presence was as dangerous as the assassin standing off to the side.  
"Welcome," Hank seems to growl, smiling lopsidedly, "I assume Nines got you here comfortably?"  
It took everything in Connor to nod. Gavin looks down as Hank's eyes land on him. He jolts as Hank grabs his chin in one soft, warm hand and jerks his face up to look eye-to-eye with him.  
"Nines," he addresses the man behind them now, "you were clumsy."  
"Yes, sir. I do apologize. A bullet went through the man and grazed his nose."  
"Don't let it happen again. I can replace you."  
"Yes, sir."  
Gavin swallows thickly before taking a deep breath.  
"It's not his fault, I moved my head," he stutters out. No, why was he defending an assassin, let alone one for a supposed mafia boss? His head is filled with a million questions for himself as Hank chuckles a little.  
"Dear Gavin, I want you to take a good look at Nines," Hank spins Gavin around to look at Nines, punctuating his sentence. "Does that look like a man who wouldn't take your movements into account before firing? He is young, intelligent, trained similarly to a Navy Seal if not even harder and better. He fires that sniper between heartbeats so he doesn't mess up the shot. He stops breathing so he doesn't mess up the shot. You really believe that you moving your head would mess up his shot?"  
"N-no, uh, sir," Gavin squeaks out. Nines stood, looking not at Hank, but at Gavin, watching the trembling psychiatrist with steel blue eyes that conveyed no readable emotion.  
Connor could only look on, holding his breath so as to not draw attention to himself as Hank lets Gavin go and steps away to sit across from the two of them. Gavin collapses into his seat, looking at Hank warily, stealing a quick glance at Nines as the assassin steps away to go stand behind Hank.  
"Excuse my horrible manners. I know you two, but you two do not know me. My name is Hank. This is Nines. I would like to offer you both a proposition you will not want to refuse."


	2. The Proposition and the Hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank gives it to them plain and simple; 24/7 protection from his finest spies and guards for a large sum of money and sealed lips about his name and location... and if they break this proposition and the trust Hank has put in them, the cold-hearted killer, Nines, would be disposing of them with no hesitation. Or would he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on Nines and Gavin. Next chapter will focus on Connor and Hank!

"A... Proposition?" Connor stutters out.   
Hank was leaning back in his seat, staring down at Connor. Hank's thick arms were folded across his chest, making the fabric of his white button-down tighten against the mafia boss's flesh. His presence in the room was huge, almost giant-like, and the Saint Bernard at his feet made his giant stature all the larger. All in all, Hank was incredibly intimidating and made both Gavin and Connor feel undeniably smaller than they actually were. In fact, Connor could easily be taller than the mafia boss, if he stood up straight. Gavin, on the other hand, was the shortest person in the room but sat in his seat almost as if they were attending a meeting, but the look in his eyes gave it all away.   
"A proposition," Hank echoes Connor's words, "of safety and utmost secrecy."  
Safety and utmost secrecy? Connor had never heard of terms of an agreement like that. Of course, though, this was no ordinary agreement. Silence hung thickly in the air before Connor clears his throat and continues. It seemed as though Gavin wasn't really an expert at attending meetings as Connor had previously given him slight credit for.   
"What do you mean by that, Hank?" Connor's words slide out of his mouth, careful and calculated as to not raise a negative response from the man in front of him.  
"Exactly that. Reed and yourself will be constantly guarded by some of my most trusted members. But, neither of you can say a word about what you have been through or witnessed here today. You will be given a cover story for your absences and sent about your daily lives. If either of you utters a word about me or the location we are in, both of you will be taken out by Nines. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just a single shot through both of your heads," Hank's voice hisses through the silent air around them like a snake.  
Chills travel down Connor's spine. He slowly nods, looking at Gavin, who was also nodding as quickly as he could. Hank only lets out a small chuckle, eyeing Connor before standing up and offering his hands to Gavin and Connor.   
"It's a deal. Now, I trust that both of you wish to leave. The cover story is that you, dear Connor, had a prolonged meeting with your dear psychiatrist," Hank said lowly, looking between the two of them. The wordless nodding the two of them had done in the past few moments made the two of them stagger as they take Hank's hands, shaking once, twice, three times, before stepping back. 

They sealed their fates with that handshake. It wouldn't be too long before they came back into contact.

Nines checks the body of his latest target. Two gloved fingers pressed into the pressure pulse on the neck revealed to him that the body was more likely to rot in an instant than to be getting up to exact any form of revenge any time soon. A thought slides its way to the front of his mind, but he quickly shook his head, shooing the thought back where the others like it resided; the Corner of Doubt. Some days, he almost hesitated when he was told to kill someone. He had always had these thoughts, especially starting out in his training, but the long years and hard training had forced his mind to become more and more compliant to what he had been told to do. Some days, he stared at the sky and wondered when he had become the machine, the android, that he felt himself becoming. He knew for a fact that he didn't bleed anything but warm, red blood, given how many times Hank had struck him across the face with his rings, scraping a dark, thin river of that blood into his flesh.   
Nines jolted out of his thoughts as he got a notification of a new mission. A familiar name came across the screen of his phone, along with another unbearably strong wave of hesitation and doubt. 

Gavin Reed and Connor Lockheart...

Gavin knew he had put himself and Connor into danger the moment he uttered the names 'Hank' and 'Nines,' but he felt that his mind, his throat, and (quite shockingly) his heart, were going to explode if he didn't tell anyone. So, against his better judgment, he had told his BPF (Best Psychiatrist Friend), Tina Chen.   
"So, Gav, you're telling me that you and some big CEO got kidnapped not once, but twice, by some now-dead criminals and the local mafia?"  
Gavin flinches a little at her initial disbelief. He wanted to yell at her that she should be thankful he wasn't dead, or tell her what the criminals had in store for not only the CEO but himself as well. Instead of blowing up at her, though, he takes a deep breath.  
"Hank and Nines. They saved us. The criminals, they wanted to sell that Connor guy and me off to human trafficking," his voice trembles as he relives the entire experience within a small, choppy sentence.  
Tina could see the hurt and fear on Gavin's face as he confided this in her. They had decided to meet at her house, since his own house was an absolute mess, but also because he mentioned he would be ultimately safer at her house. She takes a deep breath and pulls him into a hug. He tenses up, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.   
"I'm sorry, Gav. It's just surprising, that's all. Come on, it's getting late, why don't we get you home?"  
Gavin only nodded, not remembering the danger he was in at the time.  
Tina walked him to his car and gave him one last hug.   
"I'm sorry again. Please be safe," her voice was light, soft, motherly. Gavin relaxes slightly.  
"Thanks, Tina. I will try my best. If you don't hear from me, though, I may be dead, so try to remember me fondly," he said, partially joking and partially trying to lighten the mood. He realized quickly that he had not accomplished that with the look Tina gave him. He just nods a quick 'sorry' and was off to his house.   
Gavin swung the door open and looked around. Nothing had been moved, touched. No one was there or had been, so he was safe for now. After silently closing and locking the door extra well, he moves upstairs to his bedroom, going to grab his night clothes. He pushed his door open, not even thinking about looking before entering.   
A knife grazes past his head and lodges into the wall in front of his eyes. He stops short, backing up and cutting his eyes to the familiar man on his bed.   
"Don't worry. If I had wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have missed," came the all-too-familiar low, monotonous voice. Nines sat on the bed, staring at Gavin with a blank expression. Or was it? There was a long silence as they stared into each other's eyes from across the room. Gavin could see a hint of... something.. in those steel blue eyes, but he couldn't determine what it was.  
"You guys get news quick," Gavin's voice breaks the silence like a lead ball hitting concrete. It was sudden, and almost deafening given the tense silence. Nines said nothing, so he continued. "What abou-"  
"Connor is fine. No one takes my kills, and Hank trusts that I will finish the job, so I can take my time," he breaks Gavin off.   
"Oh, okay, that's fine and all, but... why didn't you kill me?"  
The words hung in the air, in an almost humiliating display, for a long time. Gavin took this opportunity to try to figure Nines out. What was he thinking? Why was he going against his orders?   
Was he crying?  
"Cyrus. Cyrus Valiant," came an unrelated response. Gavin picked up a certain lilt to Cyrus's voice, a certain shakiness that told him not to press the matter of why he didn't kill Gavin.   
Silence again. Gavin hated it when there was silence, but his profession called for it, a lot. He wanted to do something, anything, step forward or react to Cyrus's crying, but he stood there, letting the silence wrap around them.   
"So many years. Of blood, of torment, of lying to myself that I'm fine with it as long as I'm Hank's perfect killer," Cyrus's voice broke the silence again, making Gavin almost jump out of his skin. He takes an experimental step forward, and finding that Cyrus didn't seem threatened by him, he took a seat by the taller man.   
It felt odd, putting his hand on Cyrus's warm knee, feeling the crying man tense and relax within a matter of seconds. It felt even stranger when Gavin found himself pulling Cyrus into a hug. If there was anything that his friendship with Tina had taught him, it was the fact that no matter who you were, sometimes you just needed a hug to make things seem better. Cyrus's reaction didn't come immediately. He just slumped over, burying his face in Gavin's shoulder. The psychiatrist thought that this action would be the sole extent of Cyrus's actions, but he heard shifting of fabric. He looks down in time to see Cyrus's arms, as shaky as they were, move up. Gavin lets out a grunt as Cyrus suddenly, and a tad roughly actually, hugged him in response.  
"I'm sorry," was all Cyrus could manage to get out.   
Gavin had read enough books, seen enough movies and fanfiction to know that the killer, while being vulnerable, would always say 'sorry' before killing their victim. It was a classic trope. One that anyone would use. He braced himself to feel his life slip away from his body any minute, whether it be gun or knife, or something.

Only it wasn't.  
Nothing happened.   
Cyrus just apologized to him for seemingly no reason.  
"Why? Why are you sorry?" Gavin chokes out, releasing the breath he had been holding in anticipation for being killed.  
"I could have hurt you. Hank will be mad. I don't know what will happen going forward. I'm sorry," the steel-eyed man responds, his voice muffled in Gavin's shirt.   
And Gavin was suddenly well-aware he, himself, was crying too. He couldn't assure Cyrus that things would be alright. He didn't know what weight Cyrus carried on his shoulders. He wanted badly to make everything better, assure the vulnerable assassin (he had to remind himself that Cyrus was a skilled and highly trained killer) that everything would be better, be fine, the future would be bright. Gavin's face fell into the crook of Cyrus's neck as he lets out a choked sob.   
And the two of them stayed like that for a very long time. Gavin wasn't sure how he really felt about sharing such an intimate moment with someone who was essentially his would-be-killer. He would have cared about the situation a whole lot more, had he just thought about it at the time...  
But Cyrus was so warm. He was sad, vulnerable, and had just needed someone to listen, even though he didn't necessarily disclose a lot of information. Gavin just knew that there were a lot of emotions that Cyrus had quite obviously been putting away for far too long, and needed to let it out. Gavin felt quite similar. He felt like this moment connected them a lot more than he really would feel comfortable mentioning later, if the topic ever arose. He doubted that the connection would truly last. 

But he would gladly let this moment last as long as it needed to. Or longer. If Cyrus 'Nines' Valiant needed the time and the comfort of another human, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, so much, for reading! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint all of you who seem intrigued by my story. Even though my chapters are short, I hope it was worth the read!


	3. Saved for a Small Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Connor meet again in a very familiar room; Hank's office. Except there's something missing... Where was his assassin?  
> Where was Nines?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I lied about this chapter being about Connor and Hank. I had a different idea. This is an angst-ish chapter this time around. Not as soft as the last chapter.  
> In fact, Hank is quite the asshole in this chapter.  
> TW: Blood, mentions of abuse(?), graphic-ish imagery of wounds.

Gavin and Cyrus had fallen asleep together that night. Nothing really happened, other than crying and small talk.  
But, when Gavin woke up, which was a surprise in itself given that he should be dead, Nines- no, Cyrus- wasn't there. This didn't really surprise Gavin that much. He was part of the mafia. He had other things to do than lay in bed and wait for Gavin to wake up. But Gavin couldn't help but feel his chest twist up painfully when he realized there was no note, no goodbye. The only remnant of Cyrus ever being there was the slit in his wall by the door frame where the knife hit last night. Gavin sat in bed, staring at the slit in the wall, unconsciously letting his hand trail up to the newly forming scar on his nose from where he had been grazed by a bullet back when he and Connor had been saved. He swallows thickly, shaking his head to himself and getting up.  
Good things, no matter how 'good,' come to an end sometime, right?

Gavin had breakfast, got clothes on, and went to the grocery store to buy some more small things.  
But when Gavin got out of his car to go to the grocery store, he felt a sharp pain in his side, then numbness... Then everything went dark.

Gavin gasps awake on a very luxurious leather couch. His hands were tied behind him and ached, signalling that he had been bound like this for much longer than necessary. He blinks the fog out of his eyes and sees a very familiar St. Bernard sleeping on the bear-skin rug. Gavin feels his heart leap into his throat. No matter how hard he swallowed, it wouldn't go down. He looks around and sees Connor starting to stir in the couch next to him, making the big dog growl lowly in response. Connor tenses up and his eyes snap open. He looks around frantically and locks eyes with Gavin.  
They both knew, now, why they were here.  
"Gavin-" Connor starts, whispering as if it would help matters.  
"I panicked. I was shaken and scared," Gavin whispers back, feeling the guilt wash over them. He could have been responsible for Connor's death all because he was scared...  
Connor opens his mouth to reply when they both hear someone clear their throat behind them. It was a gruff sound, deep and intimidating. It rumbled through the room, making the room feel like it, too, was shaking in fear.  
"Gentlemen. It is a pleasure to have you two join us this afternoon," Hank said.  
Connor looked at Hank first. The thick stature of the older man seemed to cast a shadow around the room, leaving Connor feeling cold. His suit jacket was gone, leaving him in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black suspenders held his suit pants up. A blood red tie laid, untied, around his neck like a snake. Or was it an actual snake? The tie's color was only second to dark splatters on his white shirt, as well as his hands and under one eye. Connor had a gut feeling that it wasn't paint.  
Gavin didn't dare look back at the older man. He knew that Hank knew every last sin he had committed, up to the smallest detail. He had looked around the room a little better, though. Dark stains, shining with freshness, litter the crimson carpet. Gavin felt his gut wrench as he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.  
"I see you've noticed the little mess I've made," Hank's voice sent chills down Gavin's spine.  
"Where's Cyrus..?" Gavin was too late to catch himself, feeling sick. His head spun as he stares at the blood. His lungs refused to work, keeping him from drawing in a proper breath.  
He felt Hank's hand move off of his shoulder, then the sharp pain as Hank dug his fingers into Gavin's chin and forced him to look up at Hank.  
"Nines," he hissed, the sharp pronunciation of the nickname warning Gavin that there was more to this story than what met the eye, "Is occupied at the moment. You know all too well why, I'm sure."  
Gavin writhes in Hank's grip. The grip only tightens as Hank continues.  
"You see, neither of you are supposed to be alive. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Connor on the news this morning. Can you imagine how shocking it is? To have your trust in someone betrayed like that?"  
"Where... where is he?"  
Hank's head snaps around to face Connor, who was trembling in his seat.  
"Where is Cyrus?" Connor persists, seeming to gain some semblance of confidence as he continues. "Gavin asked you a question. Where is he?"  
Hank snorts before chuckling, the sound cold and cruel. He lets Gavin's face go before standing straight and snapping his fingers.

The heavy-looking bookshelf opens as if it weighed nothing, a fluid motion, almost akin to jaws opening. It seemed to spit the tall figure out onto the carpet before closing its massive maw again. The figure was only in his boxers, his dark hair matted with dried blood. His back, which was facing them, was littered with dark scars and gaping gashes, though they were not actively bleeding by some miracle. Small pieces of white could just barely be seen under a shoulder wound. A his legs and hands were bound together in cold metal cuffs, and the cuffs around his wrists were connected by a chain, to keep him from lashing out, to a shock collar. He would otherwise look dead if it weren't for the shallow breaths and small groans he was making. Cyrus.

"Cyrus!" Gavin cried, tears welling in his eyes as his chest twists up again.  
Connor sat there, eyes wide and complexion growing green at the sight.  
"Does this answer your question, Reed?" came Hank's cold voice.  
"Untie me!" Gavin demands.  
Hank goes to answer before Gavin was standing, facing Hank with a burning hatred in his eyes. "Untie me!"  
Gavin's scream makes the room tremble. The plants shake in fear of being lit ablaze by the fiery hatred in Gavin's voice. The paintings nearly collapse onto the floor to seek an escape. Even Sumo, Hank's fearless St. Bernard, whimpers and gets up, tucking his tail and retreating to a corner of the room.  
Hank said nothing, glaring into Gavin's eyes as he unties the binds. Gavin glared back until he was released, turning on his heel and rushing to Cyrus, collapsing onto his knees and desperately trying to pick him up.  
Connor gave Hank a deathly glare, making the mafia boss suddenly feel a little bit smaller. Hank unties Connor and the CEO gets up, dusts himself off, and walks to Cyrus's side. They eventually get Cyrus picked up, Gavin sobbing small 'I'm sorry's all the while. Connor looks at Hank.  
"Exit?"  
"Why should I tell you?" Hank growls in reply.  
Connor stands straight and looks at Hank with a chilling air. It felt like Connor was even looking down at Hank.  
"Exit?" He asks again, pronouncing each syllable with a sharpness to it.  
Hank points to his mahogany door, the gesture a little too simple for his own liking.

~  
Cyrus woke up in the hospital. It was disorienting, the white and the bright lights. He groans and tries to sit up. A sharp pain drags him back into a laying position. He could hear some murmuring from outside of the room. He grunts and closes his eyes, laying back into the soft sheets. Hank was probably yelling at the nurses and doctors to get him fixed quicker. Something he had gotten used to in the past.  
He was roused from his thoughts as the door opened.  
"Hank, I'm not feeling up to fighting the hospital staff," Cyrus grumbles, leaning his head back, before noticing something before the other person spoke. The footsteps were wrong.  
"Cyrus, I'm not Hank." Came Gavin's slightly obvious reply.  
Cyrus's eyes snap open and he turns his head to look at the man by his bed. His heart seems to twist up in his throat.  
"Gavin? Wh- how?" Cyrus starts.  
Gavin holds a hand up and smiles tiredly.  
"If I've learned anything from life, its that sometimes you can't be afraid to help when someone you care about hits rock bottom, for lack of a better phrase."  
Cyrus nods slowly, avoiding eye contact.  
"I must look like shit, eh?" Cyrus laughs humorlessly.  
"I will admit you had me scared, Cy. But... Let's save this type of talk for later. I have a plan."  
"Plan? To do what?"  
"To get you out from under Hank's thumb."

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is self-indulgent so it may or may not get any more chapters. It may, though! Especially if people enjoy it. ^-^ Thanks for reading!


End file.
